Preacher Man: 'their blood shall be upon them' (Ted Darling crime series Book 9)

by L M Krier

  Trev’s phone went straight to voicemail when Ted phoned him later in the day. He told himself firmly that there was no need to panic. Trev loved to talk. He’d been thrilled at the chance of a brand new phone to replace the one stolen when he’d been kidnapped. He rang his sister, Siobhan, most days as well as Ted’s mother, Annie, not to mention his circle of friends. Ted was over-protective since what had happened, he knew. Hopefully now Trev was aware of the danger, he’d be on the alert for any sign of further trouble.

  ‘Hi, it’s me. I’m working late again this evening. No idea what time I’ll get back so eat when you like. I’ll get a takeaway. Not pizza this time. That was inedible. I’ll see you later.’

  He wanted to work on until Maurice and Jezza got back so he could get an update on Tim Phillips and Darren Lee. There’d just been one brief call from Maurice to say Darren was still agitated but he and Amy were working with him.

  Trev didn’t keep him waiting long for news.

  ‘I was talking to your mother. I miss knowing she’s just round the corner, and I was practising my Welsh with her. She’d seen you on the lunchtime news. So did I. She’s so proud of you. She said you looked very handsome and she liked the shirt.’

  Ted laughed. ‘I’m not sure having a nice shirt on is enough to get us the breakthrough we need on this case. We’ve not had anything of interest yet. Just the usual round of people wanting to tell us how weird their neighbours are. Are you going out tonight?’

  ‘I’ve said I’ll do an early English class, then I’m meeting Mark and some of the other volunteers to go for a drink or three.’

  ‘Don’t take the bike if you’re drinking.’

  ‘No, Mother.’

  ‘Give me a bell when you’re ready to go home and I can collect you if you like. And be careful – keep your wits about you.’

  ‘Yes, Mother. Love you. Especially when you show how much you care. And phone your own mother! She says she never hears from you unless I nag you.’

  Ted was smiling to himself as he ended the call. Touching base with his partner helped him get through the day. Too many police officers had ruined their marriages by not doing that. Trev understood about his job and didn’t make unrealistic demands on his time, but he appreciated him keeping in contact whenever it was possible.

  The Super had gone straight up to Central Park after the press conference and debrief to talk budgets. Ted hadn’t yet heard from her if any more cuts were needed. He sincerely hoped not. He went out into the main office.

  ‘It’s likely to be a latish one, for most of us anyway, this evening. So at some point we’ll need to order in. Steve, would you mind seeing to that? I fancy Chinese, myself, but I’m happy to go with what everyone wants. Just no more cardboard pizza, please. I want us to take stock of what we’ve got, once Jezza and Maurice are back, and where we’re going next with all the current cases.’

  Jezza looked tired when she got back from Lincolnshire. It had been a hard day, emotionally, dealing with the sad wreck of a person that was Tim Phillips. But Maurice looked drained and bone-weary when he stumped slowly up the stairs to join them shortly afterwards.

  At first glance, Maurice appeared to be insensitive, about as politically incorrect as it was possible to be, and with as much tact as a steam roller. Even Jezza, who was particularly fond of him, called him a sexist pig from time to time. Anyone who really knew him understood that he was in truth a sensitive man, capable of intense feeling, and with an innate desire to take care of anyone in pain. In his own words, a Daddy Hen.

  Ted would normally encourage team members not to get too close to anyone in a case, especially not a victim. He wouldn’t generally approve of them giving out personal phone numbers, nor of going to see them on their rest days. But he knew he would be fighting a losing battle ordering Maurice to back off from anyone who needed him. It was the reason he always fought so hard to keep him on the team.

  He left Maurice to come to a bit and let Jezza go first.

  ‘Boss, Tim Phillips is now clean, physically, though still drying out from his addiction, fed and hopefully sleeping in a nice bed for the first time for a long time. He’s not saying anything. He’s completely shut down, overwhelmed, but at least he’s safe. The unit is a nice one, the people are very kind and understanding. They’re even letting his friend Storm stay with him as much as possible. They’ve suggested we give him a day or so to settle then think about talking to him, if he will.

  ‘I had a long talk with Storm to find out what, if anything, he’s ever told her about what happened to him. There wasn’t much, but she did say sometimes he mentions the name Simon. She doesn’t know who Simon is, though.’

  Maurice sat up and looked more alert at that.

  ‘Darren’s said ‘Simon’ a few times today, as well. When I got there, he just kept repeating church over and again. In the end I found the photo of the church you released for the press conference and showed it to him again. The one he’d seen on the telly. He got very excited but he kept shaking his head and saying ‘other church’. I’ve no idea what he meant and he gets very frustrated when he can’t express himself. It’s like he wants to tell me but something’s stopped him. Fear of something, but I don’t know what.’

  ‘Fear of getting electric shock treatment, I would imagine,’ Jezza put in. ‘We won’t know, unless one or other of them starts to talk, but they’ve both clearly been subjected to some sort of brainwashing technique. We know they turned up not saying anything other than repeating the bible passages they’d clearly been trained, or conditioned rather, to recite. Let’s just suppose for a moment that that’s all they were allowed to say. Suppose if they repeated those they got rewards, like something to eat or drink, of perhaps a light being left on for them. If they said anything else which wasn’t on the list of what they were allowed to say, that’s when the torture happened.

  ‘Six months of that and I suppose it would take them both a long time to unlearn that technique and realise that they could now say whatever they want to without fear of pain and more suffering.’

  ‘So who is Simon?’ Ted asked. ‘Steve, Sal, how are we doing with anyone known to have had contact with the three through school, through NCS or anything else? Is there a Simon in common?’

  ‘We can soon cross-check that, boss. Steve can do that easily enough now we’ve started a database. From memory, we’ve not yet flagged up any Simons as of interest.’

  ‘And this other church that Darren mentioned? Any thoughts, anyone?’

  ‘Could he have been taken to another church and held there?’ Rob suggested. ‘Do churches have crypts or anything now? Some sort of underground room where he might have been held?’

  ‘What about the noise, though? These poor lads must have screamed the place down, with what they went through, unless they were gagged the whole time.’ When Maurice spoke, the pain on his face showed how deeply the case was affecting him.

  Steve was, as usual, sitting in front of his computer the whole time. Although he was paying attention, his fingers would start working from time to time and his eyes would be on the monitor.

  ‘Sir, did you know you can buy a derelict church for under a hundred grand? There’s a firm here that seems to specialise in selling them. They’ve got half a dozen for sale at the moment in the Greater Manchester area alone.’

  ‘Have they, now? That’s very interesting. Well done, Steve. There’s no point in trying to do anything with that now, it’s getting late to get hold of anyone to check it out. But tomorrow, can you contact those agents, and anyone else you can find who sells old churches and get a list of how many they’ve sold in the last three or four years and who to. Maurice, if Steve lets you have links of any he comes up with, is it worth trying Darren again with some more photos?’

  ‘I’m not sure, boss. He’s trying so hard to tell me stuff. I don’t want to risk scaring him too much so he stops trying. I don’t want to do anything to break his trust in me.’

  ‘I’m
meeting with the psychologist we used on the Morgane Edwards case tomorrow. He should hopefully have finished giving his evidence on that case and he’s agreed to talk to me about this one. He can either advise us how to proceed or, if he thinks it’s worth trying, he’s said he would speak to both Darren and to Tim, as long as he’s not treading on any toes at the unit he’s in.’

  They had a lot to get through before Ted was prepared to call a halt for the evening. Steve was despatched to get Chinese takeaway and soft drinks for everyone to keep them going. With so many ongoing cases and a diminished team, they were starting to feel stretched. It was why Ted wanted to oversee everything, so no mistakes were made.

  Virgil had been busy helping Uniform with the interviews for the FGM case. It was turning out to be bigger than they thought. Now the first young woman had spoken out, others were being encouraged to come forward and do the same, knowing that they would be listened to and believed. Megan and Jezza had handed over the files they’d started to Susan Heap from Uniform. If they could pull it all together, it would be a good result. Virgil confessed to finding it a hard case to handle. It was something beyond his experience and comprehension, but it was part of his job.

  ‘Peter Spencer called me back, boss, but unfortunately, he’s already left on this organ tour of Europe,’ Rob said when the boss turned to him for an update. ‘He promised me he’d try to Skype me for a face-to-face as soon as he can but he hasn’t done so yet. I’ve also arranged another meeting with Stanley Harrison.’

  ‘Are either of them likely as suspects, do you think? Gut instinct?’

  ‘Harrison is definitely strange. But then he says he can’t drive. He certainly has no licence and we know The Preacher used a vehicle to drop Darren off at Ludworth.’

  ‘We don’t know it for sure, though. We’re assuming he did. But he could have had an accomplice that we don’t yet know about.’

  Rob mentally kicked himself. The boss was right, of course. He’d slipped up yet again. He needed to up his game or he could be for the chop in the next round of cuts.

  ‘And don’t forget the current vicar. Gabriel Clegg. Just check out the relevant dates with him, too, so we cover all bases.

  ‘Jo, the arson and murder?’

  ‘Nice easy one, boss. He’s confessed. Nothing but the paperwork to sort now so that’ll be another good, fast result for our stats.’

  ‘And Tony Barlow, Mike?’

  ‘That’s sorted too, boss, and we’ve got his mate. It was Giggsy, so we know him.’

  Giggsy was the nickname of a local petty villain, well known to them. With the first name of Ryan, he was always called Giggsy after footballer Ryan Giggs.

  ‘Giggsy? Ryan O’Brien? Kidnap is a bit outside his usual MO, isn’t it?’

  ‘I think he thought it would be easy money. He was probably looking for a reason to go back inside anyway. He likes it there. Always says he can make shed-loads more money and more easily inside than out, with his contacts. He’s a runner for the big boys, selling drugs and mobiles.’

  ‘Perhaps we should spoil his fun and not press for a custodial sentence. Good, though, some good results. Now all we need to do is get our hands on The Preacher. It feels as if we’re making some progress. We just need a breakthrough. Sal, you’re in charge of calls. Have they thrown anything up? What about any previous offenders with similar form? Any traces on our patch?’

  ‘Nothing from the calls yet, boss. Usual load of unhelpful stuff, as you’d expect. Now we have the name Simon mentioned by both Darren and Tim, I’ll cross-check through them all to see if there’s a Simon there, and the same with previous offenders.’

  ‘Let’s hope it’s not a nickname. Steve, as well as old churches, maybe we should start taking a look at other isolated buildings like old farms, perhaps. I saw a few when I was out the other day and it made me think. I can’t imagine the agents sell many of those, so see if you can find any that have sold in the last three years or so.

  ‘How did you get on with getting someone to talk to staff at this centre the lads were at?’

  ‘A couple of local officers went round today, sir, but it seems it’s not open all the time, just weekends and then when it’s booked for a group. They’re trying to find contact details of someone in charge to talk to, and they’ll let me know.’

  Ted glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was getting late. They’d probably covered all they could for the day. Maurice in particular looked in need of some rest.

  ‘Right, thank you, everyone. We all have homes to go to so I think that’s what we should do for now. Back here bright and early tomorrow. Can someone volunteer to dispose of the remains of our supper, please? We’ll have the cleaners complaining it stinks like a Chinese takeaway if we don’t.’

  Ted didn’t feel much like company or being forcibly cheerful with people he didn’t know when he went to pick Trev up. He waited outside the pub in the car and sent a text to say he was there. Trev was on top form, smelling of wine, laughing, talkative, happy. Back to his old self.

  Ted leaned across to kiss him fondly as he half fell into the passenger seat.

  ‘I should warn you, officer, that I may be just a teeny bit squiffy so I am totally at your mercy.’

  Ted smiled as he put the car into gear and drove off.

  ‘That sounds good to me.’

  Chapter Twenty-two

  ‘Just a quick catch-up before I go out. You all know what you need to be getting on with. I just wondered if anyone had had a brainwave in the night? A flash of inspiration?’

  ‘Boss …’ Steve began hesitantly.

  ‘Let’s hear it, Steve, even if you think it sounds crazy. Your ideas are usually very good.’

  ‘You were saying about Simon possibly being a nickname. It got me thinking.’

  Ted tried to stay patient and sound encouraging. He just wished Steve would find a bit more confidence from somewhere to speak up without hesitation.

  ‘And let’s not forget you were a big help on the subject of nicknames not so long ago, with Simon the Pieman in the abuse case. So what did you come up with?’

  ‘It’s the biblical theme that started me thinking. One of the twelve apostles, the one who was supposedly closest to Christ. He was called Peter, also known as Simon Peter. And he’s the one who denied Christ. Three times, I think.’

  Several of the team looked towards Rob as Ted said, ‘And we do have one Peter that we know of already. Right, Rob, it’s becoming more important than it was before that you make contact with Peter Spencer and check out some of his alibis. It could well be total coincidence but we need at least to eliminate him from our enquiries. Steve and Sal, keep an eye out for Peters now, as well as Simons on the staff lists from schools and centres.

  ‘It’s a good idea, Steve, but of course it may be completely wrong. Although the denial of Christ idea would fit, too, possibly. The idea of taking them first to a church then leaving them somewhere with a pre-Christian connection. But let’s not get too hung up on it, at least until we know if Peter Spencer is out of the frame or not.

  ‘And let’s not overlook Gabriel Clegg. A vicar would certainly get the reference to Simon and denying Christ, that sort of thing. Dig deeper into his background. We need to know even more about him and what he was doing before he moved to his current parish.

  ‘I’ll be going out later this morning to meet the psychologist and that will hopefully give us an idea of how to proceed with Tim and Darren. Keep me updated on those two in particular. I’ll be on the end of the phone if you need me, of course.’

  Ted had arranged to meet the forensic psychologist in a small coffee shop he knew, enough of a distance from the Crown Court not to be full of witnesses or lawyers involved in the case. Anthony Hopkins was the last prosecution witness to be called. His evidence was strong, his credentials impressive, and that was what the prosecution team had decided would be the best closing shot. The one which would hopefully stick in the jury members’ minds before they started
listening to the defence, who were only calling two witnesses.

  There was not much of a defence case to make, which was why destroying prosecution witnesses’ credibility and tearing their testimonies apart had been such an important part of their strategy. The defendant, Morgane Edwards, had tried to alibi herself for one of the murders but had been outwitted by Ted and by an eager young police sniffer dog called Tally.

  All they could really rely on was their own psychological report, which differed significantly from that of Hopkins, plus the girl’s father, who was clearly prepared to perjure himself by providing alibis which were questionable for all of the crimes.

  ‘Hello, Anthony, nice to see you again, thanks for agreeing to meet,’ Ted stood up to greet the man, remembering to pronounce the H in his name, shaking his hand. ‘How did it go in court this morning? Would you like tea? Coffee? Something else?’

  ‘I think a double-shot espresso might be the order of the day, but my palpitations tell me a pot of tea would be far more sensible. I imagine there are fighting pit-bulls of a more amenable temperament than the defence barrister, as you no doubt found out yourself.’

  It was waitress service. When the young woman came to take their order, Ted asked for a pot of tea for two, checked with Anthony and then ordered tuna and tomato sandwiches for them both. Then he laughed ruefully.

  ‘I have to agree with you there. He gave me quite a mauling.’

  ‘He is either an extremely diligent defence counsel or he has serious issues he should be addressing. I was almost tempted to give him my card. I was surprised at their choice of expert witness, though. She’s quite young, very keen but – although I don’t like to boast – I rather outrank her in terms of both qualifications and experience. It just depends on whom the jury are more inclined to believe.’